UNTIL WE GET IT (humans and creepy crawlies)

From an April Poetic Asides prompt; we were asked to write to the title, "Until ____"
This was my take on humanity's tendency to make a big deal about petty differences on not focus on the bigger picture. Also an excuse to talk about slimy monsters from outer space. Kind of a tossup...!

UNTIL WE GET IT
There will come a day when aliens land
slimy creatures with tentacles and furry eyes
communicating telepathically
so we cannot tap into their transmissions
They’ll still making hideous screechy noises when they move
probably for simple intimidation
They will roam our streets endlessly
leaving behind trails of a greasy residue
reeking an odd combination of raw sewage,
Tigress cologne, and sausage stuffing

They will, of course, eat their young
from the inside out (because the choice bits
are always on the inside; Tony Bourdain says so)
and when they run out of young’uns, they’ll start eating us
We’ll be chased us into hills and finally have to admit
that those survivalist militia wackadoodles were onto something
(at least as far as stockpiling nonperishable foods was concerned)

And on that day, we may look at each other and say
“You have two eyes and a mouth just like I do
A nose for breathing, a hairy head
We all stand and walk when able
We all speak a language, we sleep when we’re tired
We don’t eat our young; we teach them, we raise them
We all have more in common than not

“Why are we always waging war on each other?
Why does the shade of brown on our skin matter?
Why does our place of worship keep us apart?
Why didn’t we get together every time there was
famine, disease, tragedy, hardship
Why didn’t we help one another while we still had time?”

I hope the hairy eyeball smelly slimy things never come
But until they do (and you know they will!)
Let’s remember what we have in common
and treat each other a little better

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

TVolution

Watched "Good Night and Good Luck" again, David Straithairn's virtuoso turn as Murrow and thought about how the evening news and the minds who brought us "Your Show of Shows" are gone with the corporate (stinky cheese) wind.

TVolution

In the beginning was creativity
Watch This - brought to you by
Buy This

This pattern morphed over time in sinister ways
Buy This bought out the creators of
Watch This, thereby dictated the watching
Watch This was shuffled about according to Buy This trending

Our only anchor was the anchorman
the Network Evening News
Buy This pulled up that anchor and we were adrift

Then Buy This created
Watch This Happening Now, which became
Watch Only These Bits, then
Watch Only These Bits And Think This About Them
And Anyone Who Disagrees With Us Is A Socialist

Now we’re narcotically glued to the tube
Dancing With America’s Next Apprentice Survivor Idol
Plasma spasma extravaganza
Minds restless, but legs so lazy they got their own syndrome
and consequently their own drug
well-advertised, saturating the market like Crisco
and every bit as healthy

(c) 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

AFRODISIAC (alert: not for the prudish)

AFRODISIAC

Hey, it was lonely on the island
Living solo, slaving six nights slingin songs
My friend went stateside and brought me a present
Something Special
a vibrator – not just any vibrator, mind you
The biggest, fattest, most finely articulated, blackest dildo in creation
“He’ll keep you company,” she winked naughtily

That night, I tingled, mind wandering amid music
about the wonderous wanker wand
I named him Billy Preston (it was the 80s, mind you)
Billy was waiting for me
under my pillow
ready for our first close encounter

Finally home, just the two of us.
Billy, meet Betty (don’t ask)
Working our way into a complete union
Then I flipped on the switch
and screamed (but not in a good way)
Billy Preston had an impressive thermonuclear engine
Not a purr, nor a roar – something more excessive
like a jet revving before liftoff

I pulled out fast
(now, that’s weird for a girl to say)
and in my haste to extract the genital buzzsaw from my fertile forest
I flung it clear across the room
He landed in the wastebasket, still cruising at 120 mph
The basket overturned and Billy Preston was
“goin’ round in circles”
like a poodle on double espresso

Poor Betty still flinches when she recalls the trauma
Doc said you can’t treat a twat for PTSD, only VD
But she was gently cajoled and healed
by the real thing
eventually

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

WAYS TO... two poems

From our Poetic Asides prompt, Ways To...
I have two. One fun, one deeper. Enjoy.
---------------------------------------
WAYS TO TRAIN YOUR CAT TO OBEY








© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

-----------------------------------------

WAYS TO SURRENDER

Give it up
Push it away
that ego, whispering “me me me”
(like a bad soprano warming up)

Let it go
Listen to the echo
(the voice that says the world revolves around you)

Let it in
Breathe it in
Creation, the Creator, who loves you
(and only wants you to give love back to the world)

Come full stop
Close your eyes
Let love catch up to you
(you were running too fast anyway)


© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

POETIC FORMS (a little commentary/rant!)

POETIC FORMS

Forms
are not within my norms

Haiku
too small a hoop to leap through

(BLEEP)
I meant “through which to leap”

Ghazal
piecing together words, a jigsaw puzzle

Shadorma
I gave up, frustrated… pro forma

Sestina
I’d rather eat Wheateena

Those
who excel in forms, I offer you kudos

Me?
Just another free-verse devotee

(Online meetings for Haiku Anonymous forming now. All comments must be in 5-7-5 format.)

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil